King of Pain
by Cyrelia J
Summary: Past and present Severus Snape is suffering from a serious eating disorder. (slash relationship SS/HP)
1. Part 1 of 3

Title: King of Pain  
Author: Cyrelia J  
E-mail: QAdelB147@aol.com  
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I also don't own the song King of Pain by The Police.  
Spoilers: I don't think so, but I probably took some liberties with history ^^  
Summary: Past and Present Severus is dealing with an eating disorder  
Rating: NC-17 for content  
Pairings: HP/SS (of course ^_^) mention of LM/NM  
Warnings: Well, eating disorder, massive angst and um... well non bastard Lucius (So no one falls over dead from shock ^^)  
Archive: Sure why not ^_^;  
  
King of Pain  
  
_There's a little black spot on the sun today  
That's my soul up there  
It's the same old thing as yesterday  
That's my soul up there  
There's a black hat caught in a high tree top  
That's my soul up there  
There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop  
That's my soul up there_  
  
The boy trembles, kneeling in front of the cool porcelain. The contents have long swirled down the drain but he hasn't been able to bring himself to move; in case there's more shame to purge from his body. His face is damp with sweat. Slick, black, strands shine, staying plastered to his skin. The back of his quaking hand wipes the sweat from his brow as he turns away slumping forward. Hands wipe themselves off on the stained fabric of his robe still trembling. They clutch at his throat, scraped raw from the contents being expunged from it. The act didn't used to hurt so badly months ago. He had a toothache once that was immense. Too many sweets, his mother had said and forbidden him the luxury of medical aid. The pain had stopped after awhile and the tooth, thankfully immature, fell away to make room for a new one.  
  
As he rasps out a cleaning spell, he wonders if his vocal chords might not mercifully do the same once the nerves are dead. The small figure pulls his knees up to his chest, black eyes nervously darting back and forth. His friend Lucius almost caught him when he stayed for the summer. But that hadn't been as damning. Then it was simply a matter or not eating. And a few hasty bites from the occasional piece of fruit had headed off the remainder of the blond's perfunctory questioning.  
  
After his second week back at school he'd been forced into a semi regular meal schedule to maintain appearances. That was when he realized he'd have to find another way to keep his control. Severus had always been a clever boy. However, he hadn't always been a thin boy. He remembers bitterly the fat little cherub face stupidly stuffing itself with sweets. The toothache hadn't stopped that. His mother hadn't either. She could control his attitude, his thoughts, his dreams to be a great potions master, but she couldn't watch him in the middle of the night when he'd remove the concealing charms cast over his bag of candy in the corner. She couldn't stop the house elves' manic obsession with feeding things either. She could put a half a plate of vegetables in front of him for dinner and yell if he ate too fast or too much. She could even tell Lucius' mother that he was on a special diet and couldn't eat any of the rich dinners they'd serve. But she couldn't watch him all the time.  
  
He used to smile to himself when she'd get mad that he didn't lose weight. At seven, being taller than most and larger, having to buy robes for larger children her anger was satisfactory. It was something he accomplished. He kept it up for years in fact; young, fat, and triumphant. He expected the same at Hogwarts naturally, recalling one of the muggle novel's he'd snuck a read at once staying at a relative's house. Almost all the children he'd gone with were thinner, prettier, and irritably more cheerful. Ever the pessimist, expected a scene out of Oliver Twist; chilren standing in line waiting to be doled out a bowl of gruel. At the very least, a modicum of regulation when they entered the great hall.  
  
He sat next to Lucius after their sorting into Slytherin, waiting to have all the grand spread taken away and being brought more green abominations and sickly platters. When he noticed the others eating and no one seeming to care, he suddenly didn't feel very hungry. He listened to headmaster Dumbledore's speech and pushed away his plate. His face burned when he heard a whisper to the right followed by a nasty snicker. "..better push that plate away fat arse... looks like he could afford to miss a meal or two." He'd heard it before from his mother in more delicate terms of course. He frowned and started to reach for the plate again defiantly. "Better not Sev," Lucius whispered catching his wrist. He heard the boys laughing again not so softly and gave a slight nod. He'd eat something later by himself.  
  
Later he wasn't hungry. At first, alone by himself, he looked shamefully forward to secretly eating the candy he'd bought on the train. He sat in bed when he thought his room mates were asleep and ate quietly. He didn't know anyone else was awake until he heard the soft mocking titters from across the room. He stopped and put down the kicking chocolate frog leg. "Hey fatty don't stop, keep going. We took bets on the boat to see how long 'fore you burst!"  
"Shuttup Lestrange or I'll have my father arrest yours!" The laughing boy known now to him as Lestrange muttered something under his breath and laid back down. Lucius sighed. "It's all right Sev... I... know you can't help it... just finish it quieter okay?" It wasn't alright. It wasn't hurting his mother where she couldn't even see him. It wasn't even hurting those bastards who laughed at him. He felt the bile rising in his throat and shook his head. No. He wasn't weak like that. He couldn't be in front of Lucius. He wouldn't be another sniveling Peter Pettigrew with the sticky candy fingers on the boat. He rewrapped the remainder of the candy and put it away. He was still in control... He just... had to do it a different way now.  
  
Sev walks to the door, fingers brushing his throat in front of the mirror. It's a good sort of rawness he tells himself. It reminds him he's in control. He notices the bone of his wrist sticking out and drops the hand drawing the sleeve of his robe over it. Lucius had said he was getting too thin, but he knew the other boy was only being nice. Severus pinches the sallow sickly skin on his face and his eyes fall when he still feels the thin flesh on his cheek pull away slightly. It's still not good enough. He sees himself with a sort of critical panic. Sallow yellow skin that used to be a much softer ivory hue, greasy limp hair, disgusting yellow teeth. He never thought he'd be a beauty. Not with the family nose anyway, and now seeing the changes brought on since he started attending Hogwarts, he winces. Being thin is the only redeeming physical trait he has left. People used to compliment his eyes when he was younger, but even those are sunken and sickly. Of course he's being punished now. A higher deity casting these aspersions on his once passable face to tell him it's not enough. He's not trying hard enough.  
  
He turns the handle on the sink letting the water wash over his hands. He dips his head taking a few precious sips to wash the taste of bile from his throat. It cools the burn as it goes down and he takes a deep breath blinking a few times to refocus his eyes. He splashes his face and then reaches into his pocket slipping a mint into his mouth rolling it around af ew times before spitting it out leaving it to dissolve in the sink. He breaths into his hand and gives a careful sniff. Nothing detectable. A look of relief passes over his face briefly and he recollects himself in time to feign straightening his hair when he hears the door open. It's only Lucius and he stops looking relieved. "Hey Sev, you're gonna be late for potions."  
"Oh! Right sorry." His sallow face manages a tint of blush making his jaundice skin just look a sickly orange. He spares a quick glance back to the mirror before leaving.  
  
_I have stood here before inside the pouring rain  
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain  
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign  
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain_  
  
Twenty five years later, the same Severus Snape carefully avoids the mirror as he makes his way to the great hall. He enters and takes his seat next to the young man with black hair and green eyes. The young man, displaying no overt signs of affection discreetly places a hand on the older man's knee under the table. Features softening for a moment, Severus turns slightly and brushes the hair from Harry Potter's forehead. It had been a welcome relief to discover his younger lover shares his natural reticence to physical contact outside the bedroom. He doesn't think he could deal with a constant clinging presence. Harry smiles and they both turn to look as Dumbledore stands up to make the announcement.  
  
"Welcome everyone," He exclaims grandly. "I know you all have been looking forward to this... except you of course Professor Snape." He inclines his head eyes twinkling with amusement. The black haired man looks confused. He'd told Harry he hadn't wanted any part of the contest. Swallowing, he curtly nods back his face its usual mask. _Harry wouldn't..._ No of course not. He sips his pumpkin juice slowly watching as the levitating blanketed shapes make their way into the space above Dumbledore's head. "Now as you all know, tonight we will be announcing the winners of the picture contest. The student or students who have correctly matched the most childhood pictures to the corresponding faculty member will be rewarded twenty five house points each." A small cheer erupts as he reiterates the amount.  
  
Severus eats slowly ignoring the slightly concerned look coming from Harry. He deliberately measures the amounts of meat, vegetables, and dessert and sets everything on the plate. Slowly beginning to chew his roast beef, his ears take in the cheers as announcements are made going from Trelawney to Sprout, to the erruption of giggles at Binns' well worn photographed persona, stifly reading an obscenely thick tome almost as large as his three year old body. He relaxes as the announcements near their close and even looks up when Dumbledore's is unveiled showing a young man who looks not unlike a character from the muggle writer Lewis Carroll's opium induced imagination. As the applause dies down, he finishes his dessert and waits for the conclusion, frowning upon seeing one large square still veiled. He glances at the others and realizes it must be Harry's. But that wouldn't make much sense to have in the competition. The scar would give it away. "And last but not least... though he declined to take part in the actual contest. Professor Potter has graciously obtained a childhood photograph of our own well loved Professor Snape." A few snickers arise at the statement and Severus drops his fork eyes going wide heart starting to beat rapidly. _He didn't... he promised..._ He looks at Harry's smiling face and realizes with cold certainty that yes his lover did indeed.  
  
His hands drop to his lap, clenching into tight fists to keep himself under control. He hears the cloth being pulled away and the sudden silence which fills the room. Against his better judgment and dares a sharp glance upwards to the photograph in question. The six year old balloon glaring out at everyone hugging his candy close to his body. HIs mouth is covered in chocolate not even bothered to have been licked off. Everything stops around him as Severus stands up. The Great hall erupts into the most mocking and condemning howling roaring laughter he's ever heard. He takes a step towards the door hell bent on drowning out the voices, his recently eaten dinner rising to the back of his throat. He feels sick and knows he probably ate too much or too fast. "Where are you going?" Harry whispers showing belated concern. Severus looks at him coldly, his voice flat. "I'm going to go to the bathroom and throw up my dinner Mister Potter. Do you have a problem with that?" Harry says nothing, staring after him totally confused as Severus leaves for the bathroom.  
  
Once inside he casts a quick locking spell before bending over the sink to splash some water on his face. Severus recalls another time he'd looked so long into the mirror. It was the summer he'd spent at Lucius' house after his fourth year. He'd forgotten to lock the door and was fretting again over his sallow skin, his sickly hair and obscenely large nose. The blonde boy entered without knocking and Severus' heart had skipped more than its usual erratic beat praying there was no evidence. The other hadn't noticed, and simply rolled his eyes.  
  
"And here they call **me** vain. One day we'll all find you drowned in the lake cause you fell in love with your reflection." He nervously shoved his hands in his pockets.  
  
"Sh-shuttup Lucius... leave that to your girlfriend." He muttered back.  
  
"Don't be like that ... she's not **that** bad. Besides, she looks at her face enough for both of us. I just have to sit there half the time and pretend I'm listening to her talk." Severus managed a somewhat raspy chuckle. "Yeah and the other half the time your snogging like two characters from a bad romance novel."  
  
"Quiet you, we're not talking about me," He pushed him playfully and then stopped looking concerned when Severus stumbles and almost falls.  
  
"Crikey! Sev what have you been eating, you weigh almost nothing!" He grabbed his friend's wrist and gasped when he felt nothing but bone. He looked around before dragging him back into the bathroom.  
  
"Take off your robe Severus."  
  
"No... Lucius it's late... we should be going to bed..." Lips drawn into a harsh line, the blonde grabbed him and forcefully removed the garment, inhaling sharply when he finished unbuttoning his shirt.  
  
"You're not going anywhere without me Severus. And tomorrow we're getting you help" The other boy winced. When Lucius used him name that way he was always serious.  
  
"R-really... it's nothing Lucius... I've been sick..."  
  
"Yes. You're sick alright. Narcissa told me she overheard that mudblood Evans girl talk about her stupid muggle sister once. And she was doing the same damn thing you are." He frowned. "We just thought it was some muggle disease."  
  
"You're being ridiculous Lucius," he protested pushing at him weakly. "I'm not... whatever it is I'm not!"  
  
"You're not throwing up your food?!" He slapped his face hard. "Don't lie to me. We've been friends too long dammit You're like my brother Sev! I should've noticed it sooner! You losing so much damn weight! Your skin your hair! Bloody hell why?!"  
  
"I... I don't know Lucius please just leave it alone..." he begged softly not looking at his friend, holding the side of his face. "No." His voice softened and he pulled his friend close. "Lucius... I don't want your help..."  
  
"Too bad Snape. You're getting it."  
  
He hates it but he wishes Lucius were still here. He could fix it. He'd never do something like that. _Calm down Severus... he didn't know... damn ignorant little..._ Severus rubs his temples forcing himself to stop thinking of the man he'd let escape incarceration in Azkaban. Besides, Lucius has his son and won't risk the boy's safety by coming back. _Not even for me._ He takes a few deep breaths putting a hand to his mouth. He thinks he's going to be sick. He doesn't want to be sick. He's going to be sick. Ducking inside the stall, the potions master empties the contents of his stomach out into the porcelain, coughing and gagging. He grabs a fistful of toilet paper wiping his mouth with trembling hands. _Alright... I'm alright now... Everything is perfectly copasetic._  
  
He takes a few shaky breaths wiping the sweat from his forehead. He stands up reaching for the mints he has on constant hand out of habit and quickly sucks on it. There's a bang at the door and he almost panics instinctively. "Sev... hon... is everything alright?" He knows Harry won't unlock the door unless it's serious. "F-fine... I'm fine." Control. He just has to get back his control. He runs to the sink and scrubs at his face, at the imagined mess. He swallows the mint and then runs back to flush the toilet. Opening the door, he forces his face into a calm expression. "What's the matter Mister Potter? I haven't been humiliated enough? You need to post pictures around the school of me doing my business too?!" he snaps about to brush past his lover.  
  
Harry winces. "No... Sev... I'm sorry." The young man's arms twitch slightly before he gives into impulse and puts them around Severus' waist kissing his neck. The older man stiffens before forcing himself to relax. During the last fight with Voldemort, Harry had said to him he didn't always have to be strong. That it was alright to let go. Severus wished he could've told the boy how wrong he was. He wished at some point during their hesitant alliance he'd spilled as much of his soul as Harry had. It's too late now though. Besides, how could a boy who was starved against his will half his life possibly understand something like that. On what he thought would be his deathbed when Pettigrew shoved the dagger into his side, Severus still couldn't concede that private shame. It would've ruined everything about his past he'd managed to hide from his reluctant partner.  
  
Harry wouldn't have spilled the same tears over the man he thought was dead if he'd known something like that. And in retrospect, Severus wouldn't have done the stupidest thing of his life by kissing the boy either. That was just another lie on top of everything. He might not have done it if he hadn't thought he was dying. But he definitely wouldn't have done it if he hadn't seen Lucius picking himself off the ground in the distance carrying his near fatally wounded son. _Typical Slytherin._ He thought with a sigh. That was something else he didn't think Harry would never understand. Sometimes there were more important things than "justice".  
  
"I shouldn't have done that... " The voice interrupts his musings. "It was stupid... I... I know you wouldn't have said you didn't want people to see it without good reason. I thought you were just being..."  
  
"Myself?" He answers somewhat bitterly. Harry shakes his head a hand reaching up to play with his lover's hair.  
  
"No. Don't do that. I just made a stupid assumption. I won't do it again." He smiles a little. "I thought you were rather cute as a little kid." Severus doesn't say anything. Instead he just hugs Harry to him tightly. Everything... it'll be fine... he just... has to get back his control.  
  
tbc  
  
AN: Hope no one is/was offended by this


	2. Part 2 of 3

King of Pain Part 2 (see 1 for warnings and the like)  


  
_There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall  
There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall  
There's a blue whale beached by a springtide's ebb  
There's a butterfly trapped in a spider's web  
_  
Severus shakes, his hand clenched tightly around the wadded up paper. He sits at his desk trying to grade paper unable to let go of the painful parchment. He's already combusted several other similar affronts, and nothing he did seemed to stop it. Every detention he handed out today was responded to with even more giggling and insulting scribbles. The quill he's using snaps under the strain streaking black ink over the essay of a third year Hufflepuff. His eyes blink back the red haze swirling around his vision. He throws down the broken quill taking his wand screaming "Incendio" at the small mountain of confiscated doodles watching with satisfaction as the pile bursts into flames. He doesn't spare a second glance at the crinkled ball in his hand as he hurls it into the fire. Various images of a crudely drawn caricature swim through his head followed by the completely unapologetic look in the eyes of the culprits. After nearly twenty years of teaching, his students finally have leverage over him. It's gone, he realizes casting a soft dousing spell sinking to his knees in front of the pile of ash. He locked the door the classroom after the last class he had that day hoping he could vent in peace.   
  
The anger however wasn't what satisfied him. Feeling the bile rising in the back of his throat and forcing it back down with a painful swallow, he realizes there's only one truly satisfying thing, and already he knows he'll be visiting the bathroom for a second time today. There used to be two lovely little vices, but the carefully acquired control over his students is gone. Wiped out by a well meaning **Potter** and a photograph he should have thrown out years ago. He could feel it going down as surely as the bread which stuck in his throat at lunch. Harry had assumed **that** incident was a result of his palette being unaccustomed to the doughy bread the house elves had cooked up in celebration to end the contest. In the end of course he'd only had that experimental nibble and some of the soup before he excused himself. Before he had left Harry tried to ease some of the tension inquiring about his general lack of mirth during the party. "Of course I'm enjoying myself Mister Potter. I regularly take pleasure in continued humiliation." He'd taken a sip of tea finding the low calorie warmth relaxing. Harry sighed speaking softly and discreetly.   
  
"I thought we settled this last night."  
  
"**Had** you been thinking Mister Potter," he murmured back reluctantly taking a small bite of a watercress sandwich, "I don't believe we would be having this conversation now would we?"  
  
Severus hadn't eaten any more of the soup. The watery broth reminded him too closely of the vile substance Lucius had managed to "whip up" in his kitchen without the aid of house elves, or apparently a cook book. The black hair young man had taken a few reluctant spoonfuls and wished he was back in the bathroom. The memory was neither pleasant not painful. The good intentions of the gesture far outweighed the vile taste. And his gray eyed friend sitting on his chest far outweighed any effort he made to flee.   
  
"Really... you can leave... I'll eat it," he protested as the hated spoon hovered in front of his face. He turned his head to the side, only to have the silver utensil move with him. He clamped his mouth shut and the spoon hovered patiently. Lucius rolled his eyes and held Severus' nose shut.   
  
"Look at it this way. You get better. No more of my cooking." He was forced to gasp out a breath after awhile and the spoon seizing its chance flew into his open mouth. Swallowing he cursed trying to move the dead weight from his body.   
  
"See, now if you weren't so thin and malnourished... maaaaybe you'd be able to move me."  
  
"Dammit Lucius get off of me you're heavy!"  
  
"And you're not heavy enough. Keep eating." Severus glared, his sunken eyes looking up indignantly. Lucius said nothing, only motioned with his wand for the charmed spoon to continue with its mission. The spoon hovered this time only a moment before Severus opened his mouth letting himself be fed.  
  
Shaken from the memory by a small commotion, he'd chosen that moment to glance over and noticed that even at his table of "faithful" Slytherins, the chuckles and misbegotten limericks were no better than at any other. He drank his tea forcing the half chewed mass down his throat almost laughing at the irony. _All this effort to get it down in the first place, why am I even bothering?_ Feigning a headache and rattling off a few vague apologies, he stood up and left. Not surprisingly Harry had followed him at a proper interval, and as his sallow, sweaty face hung above the wavering toilet water, he heard the banging on the door start.   
  
"What do you want Mister Potter?" he queried feeling tired. He didn't bother to move simply letting each louder succession of pounding exacerbate his headache.   
  
"S- Professor please open the door!" Severus quietly cast a binding spell to hold his hair back and rolled up his sleeves. "Are you sick?! I can go get Madam Pomfrey if you're ill!"   
  
"It's not necessary Mister Potter. I am not in fact 'ill'. More pounding on the door, and realizing he was getting nowhere fast, Severus undid the locking spell and resumed his position. Almost falling through the now open door, Harry regained his balance. And stared.   
  
"S- I... Professor? I thought you said you weren't ill." He turned his head back down to the bowl, nausea warring with irritation.   
  
"I am not in the conventional sense Mister Potter, however I might add that your Gryffindor stupidity is making me somewhat nauseous." Nonplussed, Harry leaned against the bathroom wall still staring.   
  
"You seem to be under the impression that I require an audience for this." Harry sighed.   
  
"Really Sev..."  
  
"Professor Snape."  
  
"Fine, 'Professor Snape.' You act as if I'd never seen anyone vomit before." There was a pregnant pause before the older man sat back on his heels, the bridge of his nose pinched between thumb and forefinger in annoyance when it appeared Harry wasn't going to venture anything further.   
  
"Well, would you care to enlighten me 'Holmes'?" Sliding his hands behind his back into a relaxed posture that in any other circumstance would have earned him a "five points from Gryffindor, Harry merely looked at him.   
  
"I know you're not big on Quiddich Professor, but all the guys on the team used to do it." Severus raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Not me I mean... You know how the Dursleys were. I'd sooner get hit with a bludger than miss a meal."  
  
"Of course, 'The Boy Who Lived to Eat the World' that last article in the Daily Prophet read I believe?" Harry gave a snort.   
  
"Really, they photograph me with my face all grotty at that charity dinner for once looking healthy, and all of a sudden that." He stopped realizing that Snape had succeeded in breaking him off on a tangent.   
  
"Are you going to get on with it? I don't want to stand here all day, and we both still have classes to teach."  
  
"Mister Potter, do you harbor some secret fetish with regards to me emptying the contents of my stomach into a large porcelain bowl? Perhaps I ought to bottle it in a jar for you to enjoy later." Harry blinked then shuddered.   
  
"Oh Merlin... you just killed the last of my hormones." He rubbed at his eyes as if the action would banish the images his imagination had conjured up." Severus smirked.   
  
"You ruin my fun, I ruin yours. Now if you will be so kind as to tell me why it is the Gryffindor Quiddich team finds it necessary to emulate my... behavior, then I will indeed finish my 'business' and we can both forget about it."  
  
"You know," Harry started, as if he weren't explaining it to a man who most certainly knew exactly what the whole thing was about, "to keep weight down. I mean you can't fly too fast on a broom if your big as a house. I used to watch the door for Oliver sometimes when he'd go at it. He said it helps to flush out your system." Severus turned his face to hide a look of sadness that something like that had been allowed to go on and made a note to inform Minerva to keep a stricter watch. Of course his own team would soon be facing a similar scrutiny. Yes, he definitely felt sick again, though for an entirely different reason.   
  
"I see," was his neutral answer.   
  
"Sev?"  
  
"Mister Potter, need I remind you it is highly inappropriate to use my name so familiarly in public?" Harry sighed smacking his hand against the wall looking annoyed.   
  
"Jesus Christ, I'm getting sick of this! Isn't it bad enough you call me 'Mister Potter' in bed?!"  
  
"I simply prefer to maintain a proper sense of decorum."  
  
"And throwing up your lunch **is?**" he muttered.   
  
"I rolled up my sleeves didn't I?" Harry said nothing as Severus stuck a long finger down his throat.  
  
_There's a king on a throne with his eyes torn out  
There's a blind man looking for a shadow of doubt  
There's a rich man sleeping on a golden bed  
There's a skeleton choking on a crust of bread  
  
_"Sev..." He groans rolling over, sunken eyes blinking away the sun. Squinting, thinning black hair falls in front of his face as he pushes it away. To Harry his appearance remains unchanged, but only because the glamour he cast holds so well. Whenever he himself looks in the mirror, he can see the beginnings of bare patches where the hair has fallen out. His teeth had never been a model of dentistry, but now, permanently changed, one or two wiggle, no longer able to hold on. He turns to the younger man in his bed almost wanted to slap the inane oblivious grin from his face. It's still not right what the mirror shows. Not that he should be a model but the skin is still hanging. He can almost feel it when he moves and it makes him cringe. he hadn't been aware until those months ago that he let himself go to pot so terribly. He glances irritably at Harry. _Damn Potter. It's all his fault, just because he doesn't care he's gained an ungodly amount of weight doesn't mean he has to make me as fat as he is._ The irrational thought stings at his conscience and he allows himself to be drawn into an embrace tentatively returning it.   
  
"Mmm... not in the mood again?" is muttered into his shoulder. He tenses. _Damn that tasteless joke of his about a teaspoon of semen being five calories._ The knowledge itself hadn't put him off, rather the flippant tone it was delivered with.  
  
He pushes Harry away.   
  
"If I recall correctly Mister Potter," Snape begins as he slips off the edge of the bed. "A certain someone remarked he didn't want my tongue on his precious pristine arse even **after** I assured him I brushed my teeth." Severus goes to his closet carefully choosing an outfit.   
  
"Really, I was only joking Sev-" Snape glares. "-Professor Snape." Harry finishes tersely rolling out of bed.   
  
"Need I remind you Mister Potter," he remarks from beneath a fresh white shirt, "That the contents expelled from **this** orifice are most certainly more sanitary than the contents expelled from **that** orifice." Harry blanches and turns to dress himself.   
  
"God... do you want me to have to join you in the bathroom? No one can kill wood faster than you can." That draws a hidden smirk from the older man as he attends to his socks and shoes forcing himself to work through the morning dizziness. _Oh I'm sure Mister Wood will do a fine job of killing himself one of these days. _The thought sobers him somewhat into a frightening moment of clarity. Lucius isn't here this time to bail him out if he takes it too far. No, no that won't be a problem this time because he's in perfect control. He doesn't trust the brush to make a clean sweep through his hair without pulling more of his thinning locks along. He casts a simple cleaning spell instead careful not to let the glamour slip. he avoids letting his eyes linger on the mirror's image.  
  
"I suppose being late for breakfast isn't high on your list of concerns?" Harry quickly brushes his hair and wipes his glasses off on a somewhat clean looking cloth. The room, while nowhere near a pig sty has acquired the occasional carelessly tossed article of clothing around making it look "lived in". _"Aunt Petunia made me keep the house like it museum. It was so sterile, it reminded me of the hospital wing I hated it."_ The black haired man tosses a worn sock from his dresser and frowns.   
  
"I'm not holding you prisoner Mister Potter. though I dare say you could afford to miss a meal or two."  
  
"Oh please, we've been through this before. I like myself just as I am, and you admitted as much when we got together after the war."  
  
"That was thirty pounds ago Mister Potter..." Severus begins, only to find himself cut off by a soft mouth on his and warm arms around his thin shoulders.   
  
"Shuttup Professor. You..." He trails his lips to the man's neck. "Know..." Harry's hands slide to the too thin waist, mind unable to reconcile the eyes report of the body's health with the hands telling it the waist is far too thin. His mind trusts only what it sees. "You..." Green eyes look at him playfully. "...love it." His younger lover settles for a final kiss before letting go. The soft murmur of "brat" has long lost its baiting power and earns him a chuckle as he rechecks the glamour. He only sees himself because he's aware of the charm's presence. Harry's lack of revulsion reveals that it is indeed still holding.  
  
It's with great relief therefore that he enters the Dining Hall a few minutes after Harry. No one notes the separate entrance. The first years tend to stop watching Hogwart's worst kept secret after the first few weeks of either figuring it out or being told. Nonetheless, the ritual has endure the last two years out of habit. He takes a seat not surprised to find Harry nearly finished with his breakfast. He's recently gotten into the habit of simply picking off of the other's plate and today is no different. The eggs slide down his throat leaving a bitter taste and a warm and disgusting trail of run off yolk. The steak was the first culinary item to disappear and Snape doesn't miss it. He ignores the usual chatter around the faculty table until Minerva loudly recounts to Albus an inane muggle nursery rhyme which has him nearly bend the fork in two.   
  
"Jack Sprat could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean. Ad so between the both of them they licked the platter clean." He shakes, keeping his face as impassive as possible. His lips are white with anger though as he holds them shut. He looks at her frostily.   
  
"Yes amusing. Next time you have an urge to banter about inane muggle poetry, maybe you and the headmaster can go play 'The Owl and the Pussycat' on your own time."  
  
"Brilliant suggestion Severus!" the old man twinkles unfazed. _Shameless old..._ He coughs when he feels an elbow discreetly in his side. Had he said that aloud? He looks to Harry and realizes he had. Of course, the two in question have left anyway. He stands as well.   
  
"If you're quite finished Mister Potter..." Harry sighs wiping his mouth off.   
  
"Yeah I know. Guard duty." Harry stands nonetheless reaching for one last biscuit.   
  
"Are you or are you not the one who suggested we spend more time together?"  
  
"Yeah but S-"  
  
"And if I may also quote your beloved muggles when they say 'you know it's love if he holds your hair back while you're throwing up." Harry chokes on the slice of cinnamon bread he's just taken a bite of.   
  
"Oh... I know that is **not** what they had in mind!" Snape smirks giving him a patronizing pat on the back after the fact.   
  
"Yes well, be that as it may, I do require your services..."  
  
"Oh fine." He sets down the half eaten roll. "At least it'll shut you up" Snape shrugs as he walks down the hallway.   
  
"We can't all have pettifour pacifiers Mister Potter." Harry keeps pace with his lover's brisk walk whispering softly,   
  
"I'm sure we could find **something** to put in your mouth." The potions master opens the door checking for people.   
  
"You forget the new sexual harassment policies in effect. Ever since-"  
  
"Ever since a certain nameless greasy haired git filed a formal complaint against my godfather for 'exposing himself'... Really you should have been flattered. He told me you had it bad for him since fifth year..."  
  
Snape opens a stall door casting a brief cleaning spell on the floor.   
  
"And you remember how well that defense held up in court now don't you." He kneels and hears the soft thud of Harry's back against the door once the locking spell is cast. He can see Harry frown despite facing away.   
  
"I'm still mad at you for that Professor. You got him fired..." Snape rolls up his sleeves pulling his hair back carefully.   
  
"And just see how broken up I am about it." Black got what he deserved. Even if it was blown out of proportion, Snape hadn't forgotten the day twenty five years ago when the handsome fifteen year old taunted him mercilessly about that damn shrieking shack incident. Lucius, worried that the taunts might have caused him to backslide took it upon himself to settle that incident. Even today, he can't believe that Lucius had stooped to the Gryffindor level and initiated a common fist fight. Head hovering over the bowl, Severus smiles at the memory of smug Sirius Black getting his eye blackened by "Pretty boy Malfoy." Merlin how he misses that man sometimes.   
  
"Are you finished yet?" Harry's voice interrupts him and he sighs. No need to disappoint his audience.  
  



	3. Part 3 of 3

King of Pain Part 3 (See Part 1 for warnings etc)_  
_

  
There's a red fox torn by a huntsman's pack  
There's a black winged gull with a broken back  
There's a little black spot on the sun today  
It's the same old thing as yesterday  
  
Harry groans as the owl hooting at the window awakens him from his sleep. His neck cracks painfully as he shifts on the couch. He glances over at his lover with a frown, hoping the illness that struck a few days ago remained short lived. He remembers remarking to the older man about looking even worse than usual. He'd expected a snide remark and maybe a hex, but being thrown out of bed hadn't as well with him. He sits up reaching for his glasses and wiping the sleep out of his eyes. That wasn't actually what disturbed him the most, however. Recalling a night when a drunken Severus had picked him up bodily and slung him over a shoulder, he couldn't help but notice the man could barely budge him. He'd wanted to comment, but found himself dodging a bony set of knuckles.  
  
He walks over to the window, quiet, so he doesn't wake his lover. He winces as his bare foot encounters a scraggly bit of hair. He's noticed these more often lately, but seeing the full greasy mop atop Snape's head where it's always been he chose not to comment. He shivers a bit as he opens the window and takes the paper from the owl. He recognizes it as belonging to Hermione and he lets the small bird in to warm itself by the fire still going on the other side of the room. He tiptoes past the sleeping form and resettles on the couch, a leg tucked underneath him. Accustomed to receiving her usual weekly "Mr and Mrs Weasley bulletin, he feel a moment of concern. Further inspection however, reveals the paper to be a copy of the Daily Prophet with a note attached. He makes a slight face reading it.  
  
_"Dear Harry,  
I know that you don't receive the Daily Prophet anymore since that article about your weight, so I sent you my copy after I received it this morning. It's awful! I didn't think things like this existed in the wizarding world. Even so, I never would have expected such a thing from well, just read the article please.  
  
Hermione."_  
  
He bit his lips and nervously reached for the cookie tin on the table. He took out a large chocolate chip one and nibbled on it as he read. His eyes got as far as "Star Quidditch Player Dead at 26" when he dropped the cookie. He almost choked as he scanned down the article.  
  
_"In our top news story today, Star Quidditch Player Oliver Wood was pronounced dead in his bathroom at a hotel in London. The popular captain of the Falmouth Falcons was found at approximately 5:30 this morning by one of the house elves. She had been sent to Mr Wood's room at the request of fellow player, Peppino Barke who was concerned for his friend after a victory party following their sound defeat of the Chudley Cannons the day before. Mr Wood's family has requested that we do not show pictures. Sources close to him who wish to remain anonymous say that they noticed his strange behavior since he joined the team in 1995. 'Well, he'd never skip a meal,' one young man remarked when questioned, 'but he'd always go to the bathroom right after. I... can't believe we'd tease him about it, saying he wasn't used to real food but... Merlin why... why him?!' The young man, and several other team members have been offered counseling through St Mungos free of charge. I also had a chance to speak to Ms Mabelyne Lorrel who has been researching this very subject for her latest book 'The Darker Side of Quidditch'  
  
'It's terrible the things these young men and women do to their bodies! Many witches and wizards are quite ignorant of this problem. Indeed, until it strikes a friend or a family member we in the magic community tend to pass off serious eating disorders and various psychological disorders as nothing but muggle diseases. I think by publishing this book, I can reach a lot of people and let them know that even some of the athletic idols we worship are fallible. Why did you know that nearly 70% of all the Quidditch Seekers in Great Britain have admitted to having a form of eating disorder? It's only now coming to light, the cover up of seeker Cho Chang's death last year. A spokesperson for the Chudley Cannons said it was an accident in the bathroom, but indeed, people are now coming forward with the truth.  
  
'Many of them believed what they were doing wasn't harmful, but with this recent tragedy, I think we can all agree that something must be done about this destructive behavior. As a matter of fact, a few players even told me anonymously that they had friends watch the bathroom so no one would find out what they were doing. These enablers had no idea they were merely exacerbating the problem. This behavior began according to them as early as their school days when they realized that keeping weight down would enhance their playing. In fact, it's not only seekers with problems, but statistics from players chosen for a survey reveal that 15% of beaters, 45% of keepers, and 51% of chasers have admitted to having eating disorders of similar...'"_  
  
Harry drops the paper. His hands shake and he turns blindly, walking into the couch. He grabs the ends trying to stop the shaking. He can't find his voice to speak and he opens his mouth but can't seem to voice a sound. He takes a few deep breaths and a step back accidentally knocking a statue off the table. He's unaware of anything else until his lover stumbles out of bed looking up at him. Harry can't seem to breathe and he holds his throat seeing sallow features flicker from a normal olive to a sick yellow. Dark eyes switch to sunken dead sockets, his hair in sparse patches is rich and thick at the same time, and the skeleton goes from a healthy man to a dilapidated shade.  
  
"Severus?!" He reaches out finally realizing exactly what he's seeing.  
  
Tight lipped, the man looks about to fall over but says nothing.  
  
"You bastard. How could you do this?" His voice is soft and he grabs the other man's shoulders before thinking better of shaking him.  
  
"Why?" He looks up and then turns away burying his face into the black hair man's shoulder. He sobs softly, suppressing the lot of it, trembling when spindly fingers stroke his back.  
  
"Really, Mister Potter," Severus rasps, "you'll soil my robes..." Harry cries harder and the man above allows him the passing of several long minutes before pushing him back. By then Harry's regained his quiet composure.  
  
"Oliver... W-Wood died today. Do you hear me he's dead c-cause of this." Taking a step back, Harry stares at the floor. "If... if you die it's because of me... I killed you. Don't die, please Sev don't die. Don't leave me alone." he whispers. There's a sigh from above.  
  
"Such a celebrity Mister Potter It's always about you isn't it?" He doesn't force Harry to look at him. His fingers lightly stroke Harry's hair. "I'm not going anywhere Mister Potter..."  
  
"Do you love me Severus?" He looks at his lover. Thin lips tighten but he doesn't answer.  
  
"Stupid question..." Harry smiles and hugs him.  
  
"I love you too."  
  
"Sentimental brat," he mutters shutting his eyes.  
  
_"Wake up Severus!..."_  
  
_I have stood here before in the pouring rain  
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain  
I guess I always thought you could end this reign  
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain......  
  
"Wake up Severus!"_  
  
"What?" the young man blinked and looked at the blonde across from him. He noticed the finger pointing to a near melted dish of ice cream, and felt a flush on his cheeks. Lucius sighed and took out his wand.  
  
"Your mind keeps wandering Sev." He flicked his wrist and the melted mass solidified. "What did I tell you the other night?" Severus took a firmer grip on the spoon playing with the whipped cream.  
  
"That I think too much." He glared at the sundae. "Do I really have to eat it?" His hand went for his wand.  
  
"Try to hex me and I won't let you become a Death Eater with me Sev." Lucius smugly took a large spoonful when Severus, pouting, took a reluctant spoonful.  
  
"What makes you think I want to be a Death Eater anyway?" He licked the sweet cream off his lips and went for another bite.  
  
"Because I said so Severus. Besides you and I are going to rule the world together!"  
  
"What about Narcissa ?" Lucius snickered softly.  
  
"Oh she'll be my head concubine of course. My first wife of many." A sardonic smile made its way onto Sev's face.  
  
"She'd kill you." Lucius ate a little more ocassionally pausing to wipe his mouth.  
  
"Alright... why don't we get you a harem then? Like in those muggle books. Oh I picture it already! " He paused dramatically. "James Potter doing the Dance of the Seven Veils!" Severus almost choked but he still had to laugh. "That's the spirit. Now eat..." He cocked his head to the side looking as if he was thinking about something. "and sit up straight. You're distracting me."  
  
"Yes, mother." He sat up eating with a little more relish. Lucius groaned.  
  
"Don't say that again. I'm not a think like her I swear." Severus reached across the table toying with a dangling hoop from Lucius' ear.  
  
"Aren't those her earrings?"  
  
"Shuttup. Hold still there's something on your face." He dunked his napkin into a glass of water and reached across the table cleaning to corner of his friend's mouth, looking satisfied when the hot syrup was wiped away.  
  
"Priss."  
  
"Hush."  
  
"Lucius?"  
  
"Hmm?" He looked over.  
  
"Have you ever met this Lord Voldemort?" Lucius shook his head.  
  
"No, but I heard about him being whispered about in Knockturn Alley. He's gonna rule the world someday. And I bet if we join with him we will too. I mean no one lives forever right?"  
  
"We will."  
  
"Yeah. Remember that one semester of muggle studies we had?" Severus' eyes lit up for a moment and both their eyes met over the table. Lucius took his hands.  
  
"Dream as if you will live forever. Live as if you will die today." Severus smiled.  
  
"I will."  
  
_I will always be the king of pain_  
  
Fin


End file.
